Vampires Drink Tomato Juice

by K. M. Shea

  Corona looked thoughtful, but any reply she was going to give me was eclipsed by a honey sweet, southern accent.

  “I know I have another class soon, but I just had to drop by and see how my baby is doing,” a female voice drawled.

  I looked over and up, and found myself staring at a flamingo pink, female dragon. She wasn’t quite as big as some of the other dragons I had seen in the chamber, but she was still the size of a small bus. (A pink bus.)

  “Miss Bea, how are you?” Corona called to the dragon.

  “I’m fine, sugar. Thanks for asking. Is my baby—oh, there he is,” the dragon, Miss Bea apparently, said before reaching behind the desk and scooping up Doggy with one large claw.

  Doggy barked happily at her, his little tail thumping against her claw as he leaned into her.

  “Aww, my little Sweetie!” Miss Bea cooed.

  “Miss Bea, this is Morgan. She’s the human I was telling you about the other day,” Corona said, leaning against the desk before flashing a serpentine smile at me.

  “Hello, Morgan,” Miss Bea said, dragging the “o” of my name out with her southern accent. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing! Corona tells me Doggy is just infatuated with you!”

  I smiled brightly. “Doggy is adorable,” I said, glancing at the little dragon. “How old is he?”

  “Oh, I think he’s about a year and a half now, isn’t he Miss Bea?” Corona approximated.

  “Yes, yes he is. My little boy is growing up!” Miss Bea gushed, carefully scratching under Doggy’s chin with the point of one of her claws.

  “So when will Doggy learn to talk?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t asking a rude question.

  Miss Bea blinked at me before laughing. “Oh my, Corona, you didn’t explain it to her, did you? Doggy is never going to learn how to talk. In fact, he probably won’t grow much bigger than he is now. He’s a Miniature Doodle,” Miss Bea said.

  I blinked. “A Miniature Doodle?” I asked.

  “Doggy is to Miss Bea what your family cat or dog would be to you,” Corona explained.

  My brain tried to reject this information. A dragon keeping another dragon as a pet? “But I thought he was your baby,” I blinked, feeling very lost.

  “You poor thing. You must be as confused as a crocodile in a swimming pool,” Miss Bea sympathetically clicked.

  “A Miniature Doodle,” I repeated.

  “Yes,” Miss Bea said, the corners of her mouth twisting upwards in a dragon smile. “It’s like dragon and poodle put together.”

  My brain pretty much flat-lined there.

  I mean, come on. I had heard of Labradoodles, Lhasapoos, Yorkipoos, and dozens of other bizarre poodle breeds…but I never thought I would hear someone refer to a dragon-poodle hybrid.

  Corona must have sensed that I was completely lost and hastily stepped in. “Doggy is one hundred percent dragon, but his dragon breed is more like a toy dog. Miss Bea is a genuine full-blooded Western Pike Dragon: an intelligent, advanced breed.”

  I found myself nodding even though I still didn’t get it. “Of course,” I agreed. “I think I need to go teach an elf…,” I said before wandering off in the direction of the staircase.

  “Goodbye, Sweet Pea! It was nice to meet you!” Miss Bea called in her southern drawl, Doggy adding his own howl.

  I raised a hand in a farewell wave before plunging into the crowd.

  By now I knew where my classroom was…sort of…so it only took a few minutes before I found my room.

  I opened the door, noting that the painted red dragon on the door distinctly preened as I stepped inside the room.

  Asahi was the only one there, wearing another one of his over-the-top genie outfits.

  My mind was distracted off the thought of dragon poodle as I considered Asahi’s clothes. Did all High Elves dress like Asahi? I didn’t think so. The elf I met with my Cyclops union seemed to be a normal dresser. Then again, he wasn’t a High Elf.

  “Morgan, hello!” Asahi smiled, scattering my thoughts to the wind.

  “Hi, Asahi. Madeline hasn’t popped in yet?” I asked, shedding my jacket and backpack as I headed for my podium, distastefully turning on the computer as I swept past it.

  “No, not yet,” Asahi shook his head. “But I expect she’ll be along any moment.”

  The door slammed open as Esmeralda confidently stepped in, ignoring the dragon door decoration that hissed at her. “Feel free to cheer, for I am here,” she said, taking two steps inside before hooking onto the door with one of her feet and kicking it shut.

  “Hey, Esmeralda,” I said, Asahi smiled and waved behind me.

  “Wassup’ my studlies?” Esmeralda grinned.

  “Did you just call me a studly?” I asked.

  “Sorry. I got carried away. You’re the first person I have met since I entered this pixie-powdered hell hole that understands slang,” Esmeralda shrugged.

  “Good point. You’re forgiven,” I benevolently said.

  “Good afternoon, everyone! I’ve brought another friend,” Madeline shouted through the door before pushing it open.

  Madeline and her friend—a medium-height, scruffy-looking teenage guy—tried to enter the classroom at the same time. They locked shoulders and collided with the doorframe, their feet sliding out from underneath them. They crashed to the floor, yelping when they hit the ground.

  “Are you two okay?” I asked, crossing the room as Madeline’s friend hopped up. (Madeline took a few seconds longer to react.)

  “Yeah,” Madeline said, straightening up before brushing off her frilly doll dress. “Morgan, this is Frank. Frank, this is Morgan, our human teacher,” she said dusting her hands off. “Frank’s a werewolf,” she added for my benefit.

  It was a good thing she did, too. I never would have guessed it otherwise. Frank was the direct opposite of Frey in werewolf class. No, he wasn’t big and muscular; he was actually even scrawnier than Frey, but at least Frey had pretty eyes and cool hair. Frank’s hair was the shade of mutt-brown dog fur, and he didn’t have Frey’s confidence or grace. If anything, he reminded me of a coyote trying to pose as a dog: nervous and a little shaky. However, in spite of his mangy look, he appeared to be quite sweet.

  “Hello, Morgan,” Frank said, rapidly blinking several times before offering me an unsure smile.

  “Hi, Frank,” I said, giving him my standard nice-to-meet-you smile.

  Madeline slapped him on the back with a crack, which didn’t even draw a wince from the scruffy werewolf. (Perhaps he was stronger than he looked?) “Frank has never been in human society. So, I thought this class would be good for him.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “You are aware this isn’t a class, right? It’s supposed to be Asahi’s tutoring session.”

  “I don’t mind,” Asahi said, waving his hand with a careless grace while Esmeralda plopped down a few seats away from him.

  I frowned at Madeline.

  Madeline smiled and reached out to latch onto my arm. “Come on Morgan, the more the merrier! Plus, the more people we have, the more his light will be diffused,” Madeline said, pointing at Asahi.

  “Right, whatever. Go sit down,” I rubbed my forehead.

  “What is today’s topic?” Asahi asked, a fountain pen appearing in his hand. He held it poised above a piece of expensive-looking parchment.

  “Geeks. And how they’re different from nerds.”

  “You want to marry a nerd!” Madeline cheered as she plopped down in a seat, successfully reviewing the chant I had taught yesterday.

  “Exactly,” I acknowledged, making the light-haired vampire squeal.

  I walked over to the old computer and grimaced as I leaned up against it. “Now a geek is someone who is an extreme fan, generally of something fantasy or science fiction related. It has to be something unreal, not like…soccer or sports or something. They can be male or female, like girls obsessing over sappy vampire stories or fairies or something, and guys obsessing over aliens.”

 
; Asahi raised his hand.

  “Yes, Asahi?”

  “Why would a geek be someone interested in fantasy? It’s not like we aren’t real,” he said, reminding me of my audience.

  I coughed. “Uh. Yeah, the thing is, humans don’t know that.”

  Frank scratched his scalp, and Madeline yawned while Esmeralda did a crossword puzzle.

  “Hmm,” Asahi said, pursing his gorgeous lips. (Yes, it is possible for someone to have gorgeous lips.)

  I took the moment to continue with my lecture. “Okay! So, this is what a stereotypical geek looks like!”

  I was so happy when I got home that night. Since it was Friday, it meant I didn’t have to teach for two whole days! I mean, Asahi and everyone were pretty cool, but it was really hard trying to figure out ways to describe the way people act. Esmeralda was a help, but sometimes I would forget who they were, which created a few awkward moments—like the whole geek-fantasy thing.

  Saturday night was the Halloween Dance I had to attend thanks to Fran’s demands. It was actually pretty cool. I got to talk with Brett, and decorating was a real blast since Hunter decided to help for a while early Saturday morning.

  By the time Sunday night rolled around, I was getting ready for class again.

  “Maybe I could hit up goth, emo, and punk all in one session?” I murmured, tapping my pencil on my notebook.

  “Okay,” Fran said, plopping down in our booth, carefully setting her refill of her Mountain Dew soda down on the table. “We’ve exhausted lots of topics and juicy gossip. Should we dissect each and every little thing Frey has said to you, revealing his intentionally hidden flirting?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fran, you’re totally barking up the wrong tree…or maybe Frey is?” I paused, considering my word choice. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in him. Why are you so against me liking Brett?”

  Fran quickly back-peddled. “It’s not that I don’t want you to like Brett. I just don’t get how you can have a hottie like Frey hanging at your heels and go for our old school chum,” she said, studying her nails with a frown. “Can you tell my nail polish is chipping?”

  I glanced at her fingers. “Yeah. You’re wearing electric orange. It’s obvious that it’s peeling. But you’re not going to side-track me. Frey and I aren’t like that. He’s, he’s just a friend. He’s watching out for me,” I said.

  Fran raised her gaze and continued to frown, this time fixing her eyes on me. “Maybe, but there’s something different about you. You’re acting way weird. And yeah, you still like Brett, but you don’t talk about him as much,” Fran dropped her eyes so she could stir her soda with a straw. “I just thought you were moving on or something.”

  She was right: I didn’t have the time to worry about clubs or school crushes when I was tutoring a High Elf and trying to survive the MBRC. But it wasn’t like I could tell her that.

  “Well…we’ve been busy,” I lamely defended myself.

  “So, you still like Brett. Okay, I’m on board,” Fran said, smiling warmly at me. “Are you sure you aren’t part dog? You’re awfully loyal.”

  “Thanks, Fran,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “So, being sent to the principal’s office is a lot like being sent to the MBRC Administrator’s office? He’s the highest pack member around here,” Frank asked, raising his hand.

  “Yep. The principal is the guy who doles out student punishments,” I explained, leaning against my dry erase board. Today’s lecture was centered on the structure of the high school punishment system.

  “I still think it’s all bogus,” Esmeralda said, rolling her eyes. “Blue slips, pink slips, detentions—none of them actually mean anything.”

  “That’s not true. Blue slips stand for discipline problems whereas pink slips are for tardy students,” Asahi objected, glancing at his notes before smiling at Esmeralda.

  “No, what I mean is nothing actually happens if you get a blue slip or pink slip. Yeah, you sometimes get a detention, but it’s just a mind game,” Esmeralda said, shaking her magnificent hair.

  “I specialize in mind games,” a fairy, one of two that Madeline invited in for today’s class, volunteered.

  “I’m sure you do,” Esmeralda quietly breathed out between clenched teeth.

  “Mind games?” Frank asked, clearly perplexed. If he had dog ears, they would be flattened.

  “Let’s not drag high school politics into the system, Esmeralda. I don’t think they’ll follow it,” I strolled down the front row of desks.

  “Sounds great!” Madeline said, smiling brightly at me.

  “You are still not allowed to talk. Bringing four additional students with you today has put you out of my good graces,” I told the fair-haired vampire, raising a finger at her.

  Madeline pulled a sad face and looked as innocent as a doll. I don’t know what possessed her to do it, but once again, Madeline had dragged in more “friends” for today’s class, proudly introducing them to me like a cat presenting a dead mouse.

  Not that she brought anyone bad with her. I actually liked the sphinx—whom I had thought for sure would be a know-it-all. She, the sphinx, sat quietly on the ground, listening to every word like a star pupil.

  The half giant/troll/ogre dude worried me a little bit, but he was quiet for the most part. I only found him alarming when he shifted in his chair—which would make his desk squeal in protest.

  The fairies though…

  They were a little stuck up, which I could have dealt with if I didn’t feel so horridly let down by their appearance. Going off Asahi’s dazzling looks, I was expecting sparkles, willowy limbs, high-pitched voices, butterfly wings, and big eyes.

  To be fair, they were slender and petite, but their wings looked like they bought them from Wal-mart during Halloween. One wore bright purple and blue eye makeup and horribly mismatched lip stick. The other favored pink and green makeup and smeared what appeared to be glitter across her cheeks. Everything about them looked cheap!

  Mentally unable to call them fairies, I referred to them as the Pastels.

  “What if you don’t turn in your homework on time?” Frank asked, scratching at his hair. (I was seriously concerned he was accidentally going to rip a tuff straight off his skull one of these days.)

  “It varies from teacher to teacher,” I said, stopping next to the sphinx. “Some will let you get away with it as long as you hand it in that day. Other teachers will dock your grade on the assignment, and some of them will simply give you no points—which can be a major drag to your grade.”

  “Ouch,” Frank winced in sympathy.

  The troll/giant guy nodded in agreement, the legs of his chair buckling.

  “Amateurs,” one of the fairies huffed. (The blue and purple one I think.) “I bet we could inflict more damage than that.”

  “Of course you could,” Esmeralda scoffed. “Just reveal yourself to a group of elementary girls, and you’ll instantly crush all their hopes and dreams about pretty fairies.”

  “Take that back, blood sucker!” the green and pink fairy demanded.

  “GUYS! This isn’t a debate or open discussion. This is me teaching Asahi. You can just leave if you don’t like it,” I declared.

  “That’s right, Morgan. Put your foot down,” Madeline agreed.

  I turned around, intending to stalk over to the doll-like vampire and strangle her with my bare hands, when Frank posed another question to me.

  “So, who has more punishing power: the principal because he’s the highest authority, or the teacher because they can threaten to use the principal, and they control your grade?” Frank asked, itching his side.

  At times like this, I really liked Frank. He was no Asahi, but he did have the same sweet sincerity that came with wanting to learn—even if his hygiene left something to be desired.

  “That’s a good question. Most students will never be sent to the principal’s office for disciplinary measures, so naturally, the teachers seem to be a bigger threat,” I rep
lied.

  “Is it possible for us to see pictures of your elusive principal?” Madeline asked.

  “No,” I bluntly said. “The computer doesn’t have a port for my jump drive, and we don’t have a projector,” I said before digging my cell phone out of my pocket and glancing at it. “That’s all for today. Goodbye,” I decided, walking back to my podium so I could shut down the computer. (Honestly, I don’t know why I bothered to turn it on in the first place.)

  Esmeralda yawned and folded her arms behind her head while standing up. “See ya tomorrow, Morgan,” she said before sweeping out of the room, almost bowling over the fairies, who glared at her back before following her out.

  The sphinx stood and regally bowed at me, a gesture that the giant/troll/ogre dude tried to copy before stumbling after the sphinx, leaving the room ungracefully.

  “Good class, Morgan,” Madeline said, hugging my arm.

  “Thanks. Although I really wish you wouldn’t bring so many friends with you,” I groaned, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. I will admit it. Madeline was starting to grow on me. If Asahi’s a puppy; she’s a kitten. You can’t not like her for very long.

  “T-thank you for teaching us, Morgan,” Frank said with all the formality he could muster. His efforts were slightly wasted by his incessant scratching.

  “No problem. I’m happy to help you, Frank,” I said, smiling at the scruffy werewolf.

  “I’ll see you three back here tomorrow?” Asahi asked, tilting his head, making his amber earrings jingle.

  “Yep,” I agreed.

  Asahi nodded. “I swear to you, I shall have Aysel find us a better computer. You cannot show pictures as a result of my failure,” he said, his eyes looking forlorn.

  I reached out and patted his shoulder. “It’s fine, Asahi. Who cares if we can’t see photos?”

  “Really? I think it would greatly further the educational experience,” Madeline said, opening her big, fat mouth, making Asahi look even more shamed as he hunched his shoulders.

  “Quiet, Madeline,” I growled, elbowing her in the gut before turning back to Asahi. “It’s fine, Asahi. Really, it is. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I assured the gold elf as I dragged Madeline with me towards the door, Frank following in our wake.